


The Battle Rages On

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Dubious Consent, Frottage, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-07
Updated: 2012-06-07
Packaged: 2017-11-07 01:03:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/425217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During the hour Voldemort gave the Light to bury their dead, Snape and Harry have an encounter that leaves Harry confused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Harry

Grabbed by strange hands on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Harry struggles. He is unwilling to go down without a fight. It is a moment before he realizes he doesn't have to fight. It's Snape. When he tries to speak to the Potions Master, he is cut off by a brutal kiss, one that lasts seemingly forever and is shocking and frightening all at once. Bewildered, Harry tries to get away, but finds Snape only grasps him to himself tighter, as a drowning man would to a life raft. Harry wants to be released, trying to wriggle his way out of Snape's iron grip. He shudders when Snape mouths his ear. A nip to his sensitive earlobe is more stimulation than he can bear at the moment and his knees buckle at the surge of adrenalin that had been building inside his body. Suddenly, he finds himself being lowered to the Forest floor.

Harry wants to fight back. He doesn't know what's happening or why. Breathing raggedly, Snape's hands squeeze his knees.

His knees are then parted without preamble. This is just as shocking as the kiss. At the look of desperation written all across Snape's usually stoic face, Harry struggles with the decision to concede. To allow his Professor this, who has sacrificed so much of his life for him, seems a small price to pay. 

Snape eyes the boy hungrily before reaching for his belt and zipper.

Snape takes the liberty of pulling his own cock out to rub against his stomach, which Snape bears to the night as he rucks Harry's shirt up, toying with his nipples and squeezing his sides in his large hands.

Harry writhes underneath his former Potions professor (no doubt getting grass stains on his back that would mix with the blood and dirt already there) as Snape grinds down onto the younger man. The intense feeling of intimacy leaves Harry feeling uncomfortable. He fights the urge to shy away from Snape's meandering hands and wet cock.

It was not as if Snape was not paying attention to him though; quite the contrary. Snape seemed completely wrapped up in the experience: sad black eyes locked on green, mouths mashed together, groins grinding against each other in exquisite agony, yet through all of Snape's grunting and moaning, not once does Harry's name escape his lips. Harry was gasping when Snape's hand wandered to his crotch, pressing lightly, muttering quietly to himself, as if spurring himself on.

Harry is startled when Snape finally comes.

Snape breathes only, "Lily," before managing to get himself off on the friction of their movements. His come coats Harry's chest and belly, cooling and congealing in the cool night air. 

Harry doesn't quite know what to make of that. He supposes his role in this tryst was to be a sort of stand-in for his mother. He's not sure whether to be angry or saddened. He feels Snape begin to rise, which is unfair as he is left wholly unsatisfied and more confused than ever. He grabs desperately at Snape's robes, the material slipping from between his fingers. 

"Wait!" he gasps.

Snape removes himself from the clutching boy beneath him, leaving Harry, feeling utterly aroused and empty, on the grass. After a muttered, " _Scourgify ___," he walks away without looking back until Harry finally finds his voice again. He has to know.

"Sir?"

"I have a job to do, Potter and so do you. The battle rages on. The Dark Lord lives yet."

He tries again.

"Sir, my mum—"

"Don't concern yourself. It is none of your business. Go do your job."

Saddened, but unsurprised, by Snape's dismissal, can only obey.

And with that, robes billowing behind him, Snape makes his way to Harry doesn't no where. He knows only that he should heed Snape's advice. It is time for action.


	2. Snape

The boy makes his way to the Forbidden Forest with a purpose. Though he looks Snape's way, he does not see him. There is something about his determined stride that makes Snape lash out, grabbing Harry to himself.

"Professor!"

The boy is obviously shocked. Snape almost can't remember why he snatched the boy, but as Harry looks searchingly into his eyes, he remembers: this is _Lily's_ son.

Wordlessly, Snape latches his lips to Harry's, shoving his tongue into his mouth with force. Harry gasps into Snape's mouth and tries to pull away. Though he knows he should let him go, he cannot bring himself to actually do so. He instead grabs the boy's arse in both his hands, squeezing and kneading until Harry keens into the side of his neck. Snape tugs at his hair, and Harry's knees buckle.

Snape is not deluded enough to think that this is all of his doing. He assumes it is the natural fear of death and Voldemort himself that also has the boy quaking. He lowers the boy onto the grass on his back, settling between knees he spreads himself. Thrusting against his thigh, Snape vaguely registers that this is his swan song. So he decides to enjoy it. He unbuckles his belt and tugs his trousers down just enough to do as he pleases.

Kissing and biting Harry's throat is made thrilling with the way he whines, frightened and turned-on in the worst possible way. But he doesn't say no, so Snape continues until he feels that he is close. He forces his eyes open to lock onto Harry's, whose own eyes are wide open, pupils blown, but with enough green remaining to remind Snape of why he's doing this in the first place. He only feels a little bad about not paying any mind to the boy's half-hard cock. But the boy will have plenty of opportunities, and he won't. 

In the following moments, he's coming on the boy's exposed belly, his shirt rucked up as Snape explored his torso. He breathes only, "Lily," as he spills, giving himself enough pause to enjoy it, but not enough time to distract himself from both his and Potter's respective tasks at hand.

"Wait!" Harry gasps.

Snape rises, stepping away from him, tucking himself back into his pants and redoing his belt. Taking pity on the boy's disheveled state, he mutters, " _Scourgify ___." And walks away without looking back until Harry finally finds his voice again.

"Sir?"

He doesn't want to turn around and face him again. He had said his good-bye, and he wishes Potter would respect that, for once. But he supposes he can blame his acknowledgement of the boy on post-orgasmic "bliss."

"I have a job to do, Potter and so do you. The battle rages on. The Dark Lord lives yet."

Perhaps his words will rally him into action again.

"Sir, my mum—"

He doesn't want to know where Potter is going with that, so he cuts him off.

"Don't concern yourself. It is none of your business. Go do your job."

And with that, robes billowing behind him, Snape makes his way to the Shrieking Shack; his Master needs him.


End file.
